


The Floor Is Fine

by darthrevaan (Burning_Nightingale)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Developing Relationship, Drunk Sex, Floor Sex, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Loud Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Size Difference, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 15:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Nightingale/pseuds/darthrevaan
Summary: “Call me a sentimental old man,” Zeb whispered, the pad of his thumb stroking along Kallus’ cheek, “But I can’t do that with you, love.”“Can’t do…what?” Kallus asked.“Can’t do a drunk one night in a treehouse that we don’t talk about in the morning,” Zeb said quietly.As it turns out, getting drunk at an impromptu Ewok party can have unexpected consequences. Kallus finds out about Lasat marital and sexual practises, and discovers there could in fact be more to his relationship with Zeb than he'd thought...





	The Floor Is Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/gifts).



> Sneaking in a slightly late treat! Hope you enjoy!

Alexsandr Kallus was a pragmatist; and like any pragmatist, he’d long come to terms with the idea that he might die before the Rebel Alliance achieved their goal of bringing peace and justice to the galaxy (if they achieved it at all; he also wasn’t one for taking any outcome as a given). Perhaps that acceptance was part of the reason it felt so surreal to be sitting here, surrounded by celebrating Rebels, drinking a strong, unnamed liquor while pieces of the second Death Star continued to drift and break apart in the sky above.

One of the furry natives - Ewoks, Hera had called them earlier - pressed another drink into his hand. “I haven’t finished this one,” Kallus said, trying to hand it back, but the Ewok was already gone into the crowd, leaving Kallus with much more alcohol than he needed.

Lucky for him, a solution soon presented itself. “Moping over here in the corner?” Zeb asked as he plopped down onto the log where Kallus was sitting.

“Processing.” Kallus held the mug out to him. “Here. One of the ewoks gave me this, but I still have half left in this cup.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Zeb said, taking the mug from him and throwing back a huge swig of it, probably drinking half the cup in one go. “Call it what you like; still seems like you’re moping to me.”

“I just…never thought we’d get this far,” Kallus admitted.

For some reason that made Zeb laugh. “You know why I spent so much time rebelling against the Empire?” he asked. Kallus shook his head. “Because I couldn’t do anything else. Was a long time where I thought we didn’t stand a chance of winning; we’d go down in a blaze of glory, maybe, give some people hope, but nothing would change.” He grinned sideways at Kallus. “Then it all started coming together, didn’t it? Started thinking we might actually have a chance at this.”

“And we did have a chance,” Kallus said quietly.

Zeb shook his head, laughing again. “Come on, mopey. Finish that drink.”

Kallus eyed his mug. “All of it?”

“Down in one. Go on.”

It burned as it went down, and Kallus ended up choking and coughing on it, which amused Zeb no end. When he’d recovered from his laughter, he stood again. “Think we need a way to distract you,” he said, reaching down to pull Kallus to his feet.

For just a second Kallus thought- but surely Zeb didn’t mean that. His face was already warming, already thinking of ways to politely refuse, when Zeb continued, “Come on, I know those guys over there. I’ll introduce you.”

Kallus felt a wash of relief, and let Zeb pull him over to a group of laughing Rebel pilots.

The feeling was definitely relief. Not disappointment. Definitely, absolutely _relief_.

Later, as Kallus was staggering along one of the dimly lit treetop walkways with Zeb’s heavy arm around his shoulders, swerving this way and that as the big Lasat stumbled along beside him, he reflected that he _really_ shouldn’t have accepted that last mug of whatever-the-hell-it-was.

“Where are we going?” he said to Zeb, as they reached another fork in the walkways.

“Treehouse,” Zeb slurred back.

“Which treehouse?”

“Hera’s treehouse.”

Kallus rolled his eyes. “I don’t know which treehouse that is, Zeb.”

Zeb perked up a bit and looked around, squinting through the darkness. “Yeah,” he said, “Neither do I.”

“If we’ve gotta call her now, you’re doing it.”

“I’m not. She’ll be mad.”

“Then we’re lost.”

“Let’s sleep here,” Zeb said, his arm slipping from Kallus’ shoulders. “It’s warm…”

“No,” Kallus said, tugging on his arm, “It’s raining, Zeb. You can’t sleep out here.”

“Like rain,” Zeb grunted.

“You don’t-” Kallus broke off, spotting something moving on the walkway ahead of them. For a second his instincts kicked into overdrive, and a shot of adrenaline blasted through his drunken stupor, whispering _danger_ ; then he realized it was an Ewok.

He’d never been so happy to see one of the little creatures in his life. “Hey,” he called, waving at it. “Hey, hey. We need a treehouse.”

The Ewok ambled over, looking first up at Kallus and then at Zeb sitting on the ground, and warbled something in its own language. “Treehouse,” Kallus repeated slowly. “Bed. Sleep.” He mimed sleeping, hoping the Ewok would understand.

Pantomime seemed to be the key; the Ewok started chattering and pointing, and when Kallus didn’t start moving immediately, started pulling on his sleeve.

“Good, good,” Kallus said, “Let me just get my friend here…Come on, Zeb, I’ve found us a bed…”

“You’re taking me to bed, huh?” Zeb slurred, grinning up at him. “Usually you have to buy me dinner first.”

Kallus felt his face heat. “That line was old in the Old Republic,” he muttered, getting Zeb’s arm around his shoulders again.

Zeb laughed in his ear, and the huff of warm breath sent a shiver down his spine. “Just a joke, touchy.”

Right. Just a joke. _Stop reading too much into things, Kallus._

The Ewok lead them along several walkways and up to a treehouse with warm orange light shining from the windows. “Chuweba,” he said, pointing to the door.

“Does that mean ‘go in’?” Kallus wondered aloud.

“Let’s find out,” Zeb said, reaching for the door.

There was no one inside the common area when they entered, but someone had left a lit glow lamp on the table. Three doors led off the main space; Kallus left Zeb sitting at the main table and checked behind all three, finding two rooms occupied by sleeping Rebel soldiers, and one empty. “There’s a free room,” he said, coming back to Zeb, “Just one problem; there’s only one bed.”

Zeb shrugged. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I couldn’t ask you to-”

“I’ve slept on a lot of floors over the years,” Zeb said, standing. “I’ll be fine. Lead the way.”

The room was snug, with the single bed inside a nook carved into the actual trunk of the tree. There was so little floor space that when Zeb laid down he took up nearly all of it; when Kallus poked his head out of the bed nook, Zeb was right below him on the floor. “Are you sure you’re alright down there?” he asked.

Zeb raised his eyebrows. “Not a lot of room for me up there, is there?”

Kallus felt himself blushing again. “I meant-”

“I’m _fine_. Lasat are used to sleeping on the floor.”

Kallus tilted his head. “Why do you say that?”

“Cultural thing,” Zeb said, settling himself more comfortably with both arms pillowing his head. “Back in ancient times, only married Lasat and their children lived in permanent settlements with proper houses. Young, unmarried Lasat were nomadic, travelling around to hunt and trade with other tribes, so they just had bedrolls and tents. Part of preparing for marriage used to be building a house to live in together, and making all of the furniture to go in it.” Zeb sniffed and his eyes drifted upward, clearly lost in memory. “Back on Lasan, modern Lasat honoured the custom by buying their first houses and all their furniture just before or after they got married. A lot of us still keep the tradition of not sleeping in a proper bed until we’re married as well.”

“So you’ve never slept in a proper bed?”

A smile touched Zeb’s lips. “The bunks on the _Ghost_ are so damn uncomfortable, I figure they don’t count. So, no.”

Kallus didn’t know where his question came from, and he regretted asking it about two seconds after he opened his mouth. “So unmarried Lasat don’t have sex in proper beds, either?”

For a second Zeb just stared at him, blinking, and Kallus wished he could melt into the tree trunk behind him to avoid that surprised stare.

“No,” Zeb answered eventually, a new, rougher note in his voice, “They don’t.”

Kallus knew he was digging himself into a hole, but he couldn’t stop. “Then, the floor is fine?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“Yeah,” Zeb said, his voice so low and rough it was almost a growl, “The floor is fine.”

He was drunk; that would have been his excuse, had anyone asked. He was drunk, which meant he was only partially responsible for the way he slipped off his bed and landed on Zeb, straddling his hips, leaning down-

Only for Zeb to catch his cheek, stopping him before their lips made contact. “Wha-?” Kallus managed to get out, before Zeb tipped his head back and pressed a kiss to Kallus’ forehead.

“Call me a sentimental old man,” he whispered, the pad of his thumb stroking along Kallus’ cheek, “But I can’t do that with you, love.”

“Can’t do…what?” Kallus asked, feeling the dawning realisation that he might have just done something very stupid. Did he read the signals wrong _again_ , gods above-

“Can’t do a drunk one night in a treehouse that we don’t talk about in the morning,” Zeb said quietly, his voice very gentle. “Like I said; sentimental.”

Kallus was trying to concentrate, but Zeb’s other hand was at his waist, and his thumb had slipped under his shirt to rub soft circles on his hip, the point of his claw dragging against his skin. It was very, _very_ distracting. “So you don’t want…casual?” he managed.

“No,” Zeb whispered, pressing his forehead against Kallus’, “Sorry, love.”

Blinking, Kallus tried to process this revelation. Zeb didn’t want to do something casual- which surely meant he had feelings that went beyond just simple attraction- and Kallus hadn’t even noticed.

But maybe…maybe there was room for that, now. Now that they weren’t going to be risking their lives every day; now that they’d made it to the end.

“Maybe…” He licked his lips, his throat suddenly dry. “We could do not-casual, then.”

That made Zeb laugh, a rumble that Kallus could feel through everywhere their bodies pressed together. “Don’t laugh,” he said, frowning, “I’m serious.”

The smile Zeb gave him was impossibly fond. “I know you are, love. But five minutes ago you didn’t even know about this.”

“Yesterday I didn’t know if I would live through the next twenty four hours,” Kallus said, “But I did. And maybe we won’t be able to stop fighting the Empire tomorrow, but it won’t be long now. Then we could do anything we wanted. We could…see,” he finished lamely.

Zeb’s thumb was stroking his cheek again. “We could see,” he repeated, softly.

“Yes.” Slowly, Kallus moved closer, so that their lips were almost touching. “And maybe one day we’ll graduate to a proper bed, hmm?”

Zeb answered with a growl that Kallus felt as a rumble of heat in the pit of his stomach; and then Zeb was kissing him, and Kallus forgot everything else.

His mouth still tasted like the liquor they’d both been drinking all night; his lips were warm, and his fur brushed softly against Kallus’ cheeks. One of his hands came up to cup the back of Kallus’ head, his claws raking through his hair, and it felt like Kallus’ shiver went right down to his bones.

He kept kissing him, shuddering as Zeb’s hands explored all over him, claws running in delicious soft scratches everywhere they went. Not enough to break the skin, but enough to make him feel like he was on fire everywhere they touched. He buried his fingers into Zeb’s thick fur in return, carding his fingers through it, relishing the rumble that went through Zeb’s chest as he pulled on ruff at the back of his neck.

Kallus broke away from Zeb’s lips with a gasp as both sets of claws raked suddenly down his back, sparking pleasure up his spine. Zeb used the opportunity to move his mouth to Kallus’ throat, spreading wet kisses down the column of his neck, nipping ever so slightly with the sharp canine teeth Kallus had touched earlier with his tongue. He knew there were other people in the treehouse, and the walls couldn’t be that thick, but Kallus couldn’t help the desperate noises that spilled from his mouth, the moans and breathy gasps and Zeb’s name, over and over.

Zeb pulled back and kissed him again, a deep, slow kiss, ending it by catching Kallus’ lower lip between his teeth and tugging gently. “Need you to get off me for a second, love,” he whispered, “So I can get these pesky clothes off.”

Kallus tried to say something to express how much he agreed with that idea, but all he managed was an affirming hum. He sat back and pulled off his shirt, letting Zeb do whatever complicated thing he did to get his bodysuit off. Kallus didn’t really see what it was - all he knew was that by the time he’d managed to pull off his boots and pants without falling on his face, Zeb’s clothes were in a messy pile with his and he was being confronted by a _lot_ of very purple fur.

“Alright?” Zeb asked, looking at him with something close to concern.

“Very,” Kallus said, and practically launched himself back into Zeb’s arms.

Zeb chuckled as he caught him; Kallus’ weight barely disrupted his equilibrium. He settled back down onto the floor, enfolding Kallus in his big arms; it was like being embraced by a very warm, furry blanket. Kallus rubbed his cheek against Zeb’s shoulder, then looked up when he laughed. “What?”

“Humans,” Zeb said, shaking his head, “You’ve all got this odd obsession with fur.”

“Feels nice,” Kallus said, shrugging.

“Hmm.” Zeb brushed his arm down Kallus’ back, eliciting another shiver as the fur tickled his skin. “Good?” Zeb asked, his voice low in Kallus’ ear.

“Good,” Kallus agreed, brushing his own hands down the fur on Zeb’s back. The feeling of all his bare skin on soft fur was a new experience, but a good one; he moved experimentally against Zeb, sending tickling shivers all across his skin.

Zeb’s mouth moved back to Kallus’ neck, and he took his time working his way down it, obviously enjoying the noises it elicited every time he sucked there or gave a little nip of his teeth there. “You’ll keep up all the neighbours, love,” he said, grinning against Kallus’ collarbone.

“Don’t care,” Kallus breathed. “Please- please touch me. Please.”

Zeb’s hand wasn’t anything like a human’s. There was a pad of skin on his palm, slightly rougher than Kallus was used to; Zeb grazed it lightly up the length of Kallus’ cock, pulling a hissed curse from Kallus’ lips.

“Haven’t got anything but spit,” Zeb said, demonstrating by spitting into his palm. “But that’ll do.”

“We’ll- we’ll do better next time,” Kallus managed.

“You bet we will,” Zeb said, just before he returned his hand to Kallus’ cock. It was a slightly smoother slide this time, but Kallus still felt every inch as Zeb dragged his hand slowly up, tightened a little over the head, and dragged it slowly back down again. He gasped and tightened his arms around Zeb as he performed the same movement again, and again, and again, the sliding motion getting slicker as Kallus’ cock began to leak precum. Gods above, this was only Zeb’s hand, and yet it set fireworks going off inside Kallus’ skin. He wanted to be closer- wanted more-

He lifted his hips, giving Zeb more room for his hand, but Zeb didn’t take the invitation, instead removing his hand to do something else. Kallus looked down impatiently- then he got the idea.

Zeb’s cock was _big_ , so deep a purple that it verged on black. His hand was easily big enough to take both, and Kallus gasped as they rubbed together, sensations coming from both Zeb’s cock and his hand. There were tiny, flexible spines down the length of his cock, and they dragged against Kallus’, just the right side of sharp; Kallus could only imagine next time, when he would take Zeb inside him, feeling those spines rub against his insides-

He moaned against Zeb’s neck as he began to pump his hand, rubbing them together in a wet, slick slide. His other hand gripped the back of Kallus’ thigh, his claws digging into the sensitive skin. He could just imagine the bruises that would left in the morning - in the shape of Zeb’s fingers.

Zeb sped up, and Kallus rocked his hips in time, moaning and gripping handfuls of fur. This was so much better than he’d imagined- and he had imagined it, in odd moments and stolen glances; had denied that that’s what it was, even to himself, but the thought had always been there in the back of his mind. And now, here, it was so good, so much-

He came with a moan of Zeb’s name that was so loud, he expected it might have woken people in the neighbouring treehouses, let alone the neighbouring rooms. In that moment he didn’t care; it was a pure high, pleasure and intensity and Zeb’s muted gasp in his ear.

He came back down to find half his face buried in soft fur, and strong, heavy arms wrapped around him. Zeb was so big that, lying on top of him, Kallus wasn’t even touching the floor.

“Okay?” Zeb asked, still a little breathless.

“So good,” Kallus murmured, unconsciously snuggling his face into Zeb’s fur.

Zeb laughed again, and his arms reached upward; a moment later Kallus felt the blanket settle over him. “I feel kind of bad that no one’s using the bed now,” Zeb said.

“I don’t,” Kallus said, closing his eyes. “I am very, very good right here where I am, thanks.”

“Good,” Zeb said, his voice taking on a soft, incredibly fond tone. “’Cause I’m really, really good here too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
